


Better in Pairs

by Diaphenia



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: F/M, Gen, IN SPAAAAACE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-12
Updated: 2012-06-12
Packaged: 2018-10-18 10:09:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10614729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diaphenia/pseuds/Diaphenia
Summary: Ben wants April and Andy to pay their bills. April wants Ben to do something a little more fun first…





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [throwingpens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/throwingpens/gifts).



> LJ import
> 
> **Original Author’s Note:** It’s throwingpens’s birthday today and she prompted _Ben teaches April and Andy personal finance. IN SPACE._
> 
> This is as high as I could get them. 
> 
> Thanks to stars_inthe_sky for the beta job.

Ben thinks, _This is a bad id—_  
  
And then he’s plunging towards the earth.  
  
***  
  
 _Earlier that morning_  
  
“Why is there no water?”  
  
April puts down the cereal box and shoots him a death glare, then goes back to her careful perusal.  
  
Ben runs his fingers through his hair, frustrated. He _likes_ water, much, much more than his roommates. Not that he didn’t like April and Andy. But sometimes a guy wanted to, oh, wash his hands or shower or make some coffee.  
  
“You two need to start paying your bills on time. I thought we’d already covered this. In fact we did. So why has the water been cut off?”  
  
“Relax, dude,” Andy says. “We have a system. And if that system fails, we get a reminder, and then we pay them. It’s fullproof.”  
  
“Oh, is it _foolproof_ , Andy? Because right now, we look pretty foolish! What is this _system_?”  
  
Andy smiles at him over a mouthful of Pop-Tarts. “You said we weren’t allowed to keep our bills in the freezer. So, now we keep them in the box.”  
  
Ben groans. “What box?”  
  
“The box next to the freezer.”  
  
“Enough! You have to pay your bills. You have to pay them on time.” He ignores April’s eye roll. “We need the water to run and the power to be on and by the way, you need to stop changing all the settings on my phone when I’m asleep—I don’t even know how you get into my room, April, but I’m hiring a locksmith—and I’m _done_ with covering you ‘just this one time.’ I don’t know what you do with your money, and I don’t care, but you need to our bills since they’re all in your name, Andy.”   
  
Ben paces erratically. He realizes he probably looks a little unhinged to the neighbors, but this can’t be any weirder than the hipster parties or the garage band practices. “I’m not even asking you to save for retirement, because, if life is fair, either you two will be long dead, or I will. All I’m asking for is a budget. Just a budget. And for you to open your mail. That’s not too much, right? Right?”  
  
Andy takes a big swig of milk and starts fiddling with April’s hair. “Ben, we’ll totally do all that stuff, if you could just write that as a list, but maybe a shorter list? And I’ll get right on that, after this Halo marathon. You’re totally invited, but could you get the pizza, money-wise?”  
  
“You didn’t even—“  
  
“We’ll do it,” April says, silencing them both. “But we get something in return. You teach us the boring stuff—“  
  
“I _already_ taught you most of this,” Ben says under his breath.  
  
“Fine, you teach us _again_ , and we do your boring stuff, but first you do something _fun_ with us.”  
  
“Like what?”  
  
***  
  
“Skydiving, April, really?” Ben says, though he’s certain no one can hear him over the sound of the plane engine. “It’s a perfectly good airplane—why jump out of it?”  
  
“What are you, afraid?” she asks, quirking a brow at him.  
  
“Babe, this is such a cool idea,” Andy says. “I wonder how we’ll remember to open the parachute.”  
  
“You won’t be pulling your own parachute, at least not the first time,” the instructor, a tan guy with bleached blond locks and a stupid nickname, says. “Are you three part of the 1:25 training class? Because then I’m going to need to start pushing you towards the classroom.”  
  
Ben trys to disappear against the fence and avoid eye contact. Maybe everyone will just forget he’d agreed to this? But no, his roommates grab him by the hands and drag him inside.  
  
There are nine people in the classroom—if you can even call it that. How were you supposed to learn on a couch? This is ridiculous. And really, how did this _dude_ named _Tag_ become responsible for their safety? Was he even old enough to drive? How could he skydive with that many bracelets?  
  
Ben forces himself to pay attention as Tag goes over the safety details. It’s difficult to concentrate, however, since this is probably going to be his last day alive.  
  
“Man, it’s so cool how they use science to make fun,” Andy says after the training class. “I didn’t super-get it, but I think magic is involved.”  
  
“This is way better than Halo. And way better than Personal Finance 101 with Professor Ben,” April adds, not looking up from her texting.  
  
They’re ushered into the airplane hanger, where Tag’s equally young colleagues are rolling up parachutes, and assigned tandem jumpers. Ben’s jumper couldn’t possibly be legal to drink.  
  
“How many times have you done this?” he asked Rocky.  
  
“Over a thousand times,” he says, pulling out a log book from his back pocket. “Wait, do you mean _in tandem_ or _total_?”  
  
Ben has to admit that’s impressive. And maybe better this guy than the old man with giant eyebrows that April has, or the attractive thirty-something Andy had. Andy keeps looking from his tandem partner to April and his tandem partner again, and sucking in his stomach.   
  
The professional skydivers strap them into their harnesses, which aren’t the solid jumpsuits Ben had pictured, but more like… a bunch of seatbelts forming nooses around his limbs. They come complete with dinky-looking carabineers—though, according to Rocky, each of them could lift a _car_ , so _chill_ , Benjamin— and they hustle everyone into a tiny plane.  
  
There’s four tandem pairs, and three single jumpers who hadn’t been in their class—two men and a woman, all of them completely casual, like they’re waiting to get their oil changed. Ben almost expects one of them to be leafing through a magazine. He’s relieved that the other beginner seems nervous, too. He’s a younger guy who’s cracked his knuckles half a dozen times since the plane started down the runway.  
  
April and Andy are both the opposite of nervous. They keep leaning across April’s partner to high five each other—and to make out. The old man in between them seems entertained by the whole thing, and Ben would really just like it if someone else could be _just a little freaked out right now since they are about to jump from an airplane what is this—_  
  
The plane takes off. Ben grips the bench, knuckles white, and contemplates when he last updated his will. His thoughts are interrupted when Rocky starts clipping their rigs to each other. Ben barely notices, busy wondering if he wants to be cremated or not—  
  
And then they open the door. He is in an airplane that _has the door open_ , which isn’t supposed to happen, airplanes are supposed to stay _closed_ , and there’s supposed to be alcohol available, and peanuts—  
  
And one by one, the other jumpers start to disappear. One moment, they are in the plane, and the next minute, they are gone.   
  
And then April’s at the door, and she’s gone. And then Andy, and then he’s gone, too. And then Ben’s looking over the side, with a complete stranger strapped to him, and everything below looks like a far-away painting that just barely resembles the real world.  
  
“You ready, Ben?” Rocky mutters.  
  
“What?” Ben says. He thinks, _This is a bad id—_  
  
And then he’s plunging towards the earth.  
  
He doesn’t start thinking again until the parachute’s up. It’s quiet and unexpectedly peaceful. The ground is much closer to them, and he watches the cars on the nearby highway. From here, he can see Pawnee, and he almost swears he can see City Hall, though that might be the high school.  
  
He sort of hopes it _is_ City Hall, though.  
  
Rocky shifts Ben into a sitting position, readjusting the straps on his legs.  
  
“This is amazing,” he tells Rocky.  
  
“No greater feeling than this, bro. This is where I do all my best thinking.”  
  
Ben can see why. His head feels clearer than it’s been since he came to Pawnee. And he suddenly feels invincible. He can climb mountains or take down terrible governments or—   
  
_Leslie_.  
  
If he can do this, he can tell Leslie how he feels.  
  
Ben and Rocky land, actually land cleanly on their feet even though Tag warned the class that they might land on their asses. Ben pumps his arms up all the way back to the hanger, laughing so hard he feels like he might never stop.  
  
“April! Andy! Let’s do this again! And again! Rocky told me we can get our licenses in just twenty-five jumps! And there’s still space to jump again today. Guys, it’s on me!”  
  
“That’s awesome, Ben, but I think we need to get April back home,” Andy says, his arms around his wife, who looks pale.  
  
“That was terrible,” she mumbles into Andy’s shirt. “Why would anyone do that?”  
  
“You would not believe how much she threw up,” Andy said. “It was gross.”  
  
“I just need to lie down, on the ground, and not get up ever again,” April moans.  
  
Andy leads her to the car while Ben goes to collect their first-jump certificates. He supposes he should be happy to have a captive audience for the evening. April will _have_ to absorb something on personal finance if she’s actually not going to move for the rest of the night.  
  
But the idea of spending the evening talking about numbers suddenly seemed a little obscene to Ben, who now wishes he’d driven here separately so he could jump again. He just wanted to recapture that feeling—that feeling that he could do just about _anything_.  
  
He taps his fingers against the table, and pulls out his cell phone before he can change his mind.  
  
“Hello, Leslie? What are you doing tonight?”


End file.
